She remembers him. Years of war, blood, and death and amongst all of it she so vividly remembers him. She can begrudgingly recall every detail about the man who had so often visited the castle when her father was away. She knows his mischievous grin the same way one knows a gutter rat. His grating voice is stored away in the back of her mind, much like a pet hastily buried in a shallow grave. And when she had seen him again, her jaw had clenched and her had stomach dropped as if she were witnessing a murder. Her eyes had burned as she watched her father bargain with him, forging a weary alliance. She remembers the fleeting thought that had made her fingers twitch, the one that had vanished as an assassin charged her, the one that had screamed at her to cut him down. Now, as she stands in the middle of camp watching him charm her mother, she begins to wish she had.
Lucina had been with the shepherds for nearly a week, living alongside her parents and the legends they called friends. Revealing herself to her parents had been a jarring experience but being able to hold them in her arms again had lifted a weight from her shoulders; one that she had hardly noticed she was carrying. Since that night Lucina had kept them close, following her father as he trained and pressing shoulders with her mother in the mess hall. Even from afar, she kept her gaze trained on them. A nagging fear in the back of her mind told her if she looked away, they might be torn from her again. And so, as the shepherds pack up their camp one morning, Lucina watches her mother who stands a few yards away. She's pulling down a tent with a bit of difficulty and her cloak is continuing to fall off her shoulders. Just as Lucina begins to smile at the fact that some things never change, he appears. He saunters up to her mother with the corners of his lips struggling to hide a smug grin. Lucina grimaces as the two begin to speak and her eyes sharpen as he lifts her mother's cloak onto her shoulders.
"Having trouble?" He asks before shifting his lollipop to the other side of his mouth and clenching down on it with a smile.
Robin laughs and Lucina doesn't catch her response. All she can see is her mother smiling at him and stepping to the side so he can assist.
Gods, how she had wished she wouldn't be subjected to these feelings again; how she had prayed she could leave them in her own time. Memories flood her mind as she stares, memories that wrought her with anger and confusion. She is ten, peeking through a keyhole and seeing the two of them on the other side.
"We can't keep doing this…" Her mother whispers, leaning against a wooden pantry. Her eyes are cast downwards as her voice trembles.
His thumb is on her jawline, his fingers tentatively placed on her neck. "We're fighting the end of the world here, Bubbles. We've earned this." He moves his hand under her chin and lifts her head.
"Gaius…" Their lips drew close. "It's not the end."
Hurt and baffled, little Lucy pulls away from door, trying to apply reason to what she has just seen. He is not her father, she thinks. He is an intruder in this family and a thief. He has no right to hold her mother like that.
"Little princess, why such forlorn look on pretty face, eh?" Lucina is yanked back to the present as Gregor's hand comes clashing down on her shoulder. Aside from a head full of gray hair and skin covered in wrinkles, he is exactly as she remembers him; kind, fatherly, and infuriatingly observant.
"It's nothing, Gregor, I'm fine." She assures him with a wooden smile before trying to make herself look busy. However, Gregor does not leave as she had hoped he would. She sees him looking at Robin and Gaius, his brow furrowed.
"Nothing you want to share with Gregor?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. He suddenly looks uncomfortable, as if some heavy weight had been placed upon him.
"Nothing I can think of." Lucina feigns ignorance and smiles once again. No one can know, she tells herself. She can't hold them accountable for acts they commit in the future, acts that may never come to fruition in this timeline. At least she hopes they won't. Or that they haven't. "Will you help me take this tent down?" And like that, the subject is dropped and Gregor seems almost relieved. Lucina gives one last look to her mother before setting to work, pushing him to the deepest part of her mind with the rest of her memories of that time. It's where he belongs.
A/N: Hi there, thanks for reading! This is an idea that's been rolling around in my head for a while and I'm not sure if it's worth expanding on. I may turn this into a full fic with Robin and Gaius's POVs being the main focus, I may not. Hope you enjoyed it either way!